Amelia (The Marriage Market Book 1) by Stevie MacFarlane Page B

and Amelia took a bit of everything. Next to the coffee was a big bowl of oranges she would have passed up had Alice not whispered to her to put one in her pocket for later. Making her way back to the table was difficult with her hands full and so many chairs blocking the way, but she finally sat down with a sigh.
    "Are all the meals like this?" she asked, wishing she had a napkin to lay in her lap.
    "We've only had one other," Martha answered, "and that was breakfast this morning. And yes, I would expect the same thing for the rest of our voyage. I don't think it's likely Mick will suddenly get a personality."
    Instantly they were laughing, even Delia giggled. When Mick glared suspiciously at them through the window, they lowered their gazes to their plates like mischievous schoolgirls.
    "Good grief, imagine being stuck with someone like that for a husband?" Martha whispered. Trying to hold back her laugh, Amelia snorted, and nearly choked, completely embarrassed, as the others laughed harder. Finally they were able to compose themselves and continue eating, but the mood had been lightened considerably.
    "So," Jane said. "If you're not going to Seattle to find a husband, do you have family there?"
    "It's where my husband's home is," Amelia replied. "I've only been here a short time and we were married yesterday."
    "That's wonderful!" Alice beamed. "I hope you'll be very happy. I have a man waiting for me in Seattle and hope to be married soon. He works for a timber company. Delia needs a father and I've been a widow for several years."
    "Oh, really, what's his name? My husband and his family are in the timber business. Maybe he knows him," Amelia said with a smile.
    "His name is Clarence Henderson."
    "No, I don't recall Hugh mentioning that name, but I've been in such a whirlwind lately, maybe I forgot. I'll ask him. Wouldn't it be lovely if we were neighbors? I don't know a soul in Seattle."
    Suddenly the table went quiet and Amelia looked up to see a stricken look on Martha's face. Jane had taken her hand and Alice was white as a sheet.
    "What is your husband's name?" Martha whispered, looking at her with pleading eyes.
    "Hugh Jordon," Amelia replied.
    "Oh, God." Covering her face with her hand, Martha started to rise from the table, but Amelia pulled her back down onto her seat. "Martha, what's wrong?" she asked, as a sick feeling began in her stomach.
    "Do you suppose there are two Hugh Jordons in Seattle?" Martha asked, realizing Amelia truly had no idea what was taking place.
    "No, I highly doubt that," Amelia replied, softly.
    "I didn't think so."
    "Martha, please, somebody explain what this is about," she pleaded, looking from one face to the other. Delia just shrugged her shoulders and went back to building shapes with her peas.
    "I think you'd better show her the letter," Jane said, patting Martha's shoulder.
    Martha nodded solemnly and pulled a well-read letter from the pocket of her dress. Handing it to Amelia she waited, her hands folded on the table, her meal long forgotten.
    Taking the letter, Amelia read it quickly and then read it again as her complexion went from pasty white to angry red.
    "This cannot be," she insisted. "This simply cannot be happening." Collapsing back in her chair, she stared off into space in shock. Suddenly the women were consoling her.
    "You poor dear," Jane said sympathetically. "To find you're married to such a cad, and far from home too, well it's a terrible thing. Even Mick would be better than this."
    Three sets of eyes looked at her in stunned surprise before looking toward the kitchen.
    Suddenly Amelia laughed.
    "No, as bad as Hugh is, he cannot compare to that," she said. "This has to be some kind of mistake."
    "What if Martha's not the only one?" Alice whispered, looking around the room. "What if all of these women think they are going to Seattle to marry your husband?"
    That thought had not occurred to Amelia.
    "How did you meet Mr. Jordon, dear?" Jane asked.
    "With a letter